


Breakfast

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [23]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Mind Control, Pet, Spanking, Vampires, Werewolves, blood-sucking, dark!fic, dub con, enslavement, evil!Merlin, non con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwendolyn has a difficult initiation. Arthur learns more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> In the original Dracula, the vampires' fangs don't retract, but for the purposes of this story, they do. Thanks for all the lovely comments! <3

Arthur thought nothing in the world felt better to him than when the Count released the nipple clamps and rubbed at Arthur’s sore nipples.

“This has been a long night for you,” the Count said, settling between the silken sheets. Arthur nodded, curling into Dracula’s body. “Will you drink from me?” Arthur asked softly into the darkness of the bedroom. Heavy drapes covered the windows, keeping the first vestiges of morning light from creeping in.

“Would you like that?”

“More than anything.” He longed for the feel of the Count covering his body, piercing him, taking from him.

Arthur turned his head and the Count moved over him, sinking his sharp teeth into the soft flesh, and Arthur’s cock dribbled at the first shock of it. Arthur moaned, back arching and hand groping to entwine their fingers. After the first few swallows-- as Dracula’s body settled into Arthur’s-- luscious, sweet nirvana swept over Arthur’s body, soul, and mind, and he gradually drifted off to sleep even before Dracula finished drinking.

When Arthur awoke, the sun was setting and Dracula’s side of the bed was empty. Arthur arose, taking the velvet cloth from the mirror so he could examine himself. There were marks on his neck from the collar, and stripes on his buttocks from the caning. His body still remained completely hairless expect for his head, eyebrows, and eye lashes. It seemed to Arthur that he had a bit of a glow to him—as though he’d shed a few years as well as a few cares. Indeed, in spite of his situation, he felt incredibly light of heart.

Replacing the velvet over the mirror, he chose something to wear from the wardrobe where the Count had a large variety of clothes that were obviously meant for Arthur as Arthur had never seen the Count wearing any of them. The Count favoured wearing black, and much of these garments were of a dove grey or stark white. After bathing and dressing, Arthur left the room in search of Dracula.

As soon as Arthur entered the corridor, he heard the Count’s voice and followed it.

“Why must you play with your victims before feeding on them?” Dracula asked, annoyed.

“This one’s special,” Morgana said.

“You’ll upset Arthur,” the Count told her.

“What will upset me?” Arthur asked, coming to stand at the door to the room. Dracula stood back and Arthur saw that Gwendolyn was tied to the bed, her bodice open and hair in disarray. She was gagged and her eyes were wild with fear.

“Morgana hasn’t bitten her yet,” the Count told Arthur. “She enjoys the fear of the chase and the begging afterward.”

Arthur recalled all the banging and overturned tables at Castle Dracula. He’d hoped for a faster initiation for Gwendolyn.

“Gwendolyn doesn’t appear as though she can run or beg,” Arthur replied hoarsely.

“We’ve already gotten past that part,” Morgana said. “I’ve caught her and gotten tired of her begging.” She sighed. “It becomes so dull after they fully submit.” Looking at the Count, she continued, “I want to keep this one. I don’t plan to drink her dry like the others.”

Yvette and Marcella seemed to pout at this.

“Don’t you want another sister?” Morgana asked them, reaching out to pet Marcella’s dark hair. She approached Gwendolyn, placing a hand on her leg and trailing it up her skirt. Gwendolyn began to pant behind the gag, eyes rolling like a horse’s at the sight of a wolf.

Arthur clenched his teeth.

“Bite her, Morgana,” the Count said sharply. “Put an end to this.”

Morgana sighed and lifted Gwendolyn’s skirt. Gwendolyn’s legs jerked to get away, but she was tied fast. Morgana bared her teeth, two pearly white fangs springing down to glint in the candlelight. Quick like a cat, she lunged at Gwendolyn’s thigh, sinking her fangs into her femoral artery. Gwen screeched behind the gag and then stilled, breathing slowing and eyes glazing over as Morgana swallowed convulsively. Yvette came forward to remove the gag and untie her hands and feet.

Arthur felt himself relaxing.

“That’s better,” Dracula said. His hand came up to rest at the small of Arthur’s back. “Things will go smoothly now. Come, Arthur.”

They turned and left for the dining room. Arthur felt cold and shaken from what he’d witnessed, and he clutched his arms about his body. Only the Count’s hand on him kept his knees from buckling as they descended the stairs.

Leander was already in the dining room feeding Will from his hands. Arthur remembered what the Count had said about the two of them having children and the fact that they would spend Christmas at Leander’s castle. He filled his plate at the sideboard and sat down. The Count ate a bit, the first time Arthur had ever seen him do so. Even the night before at the party, he had only had brandy, partaking nothing from his full plate at the dinner table. He said as much to the Count.

“We do not need this type of sustenance,” Dracula told him, “but sometimes we enjoy it.”

Arthur was voraciously hungry and went for seconds.

Gwaine entered the room from a side door, closely followed by Cenred. They looked winded.

“Been out for a run?” the Count asked.

Gwaine nodded.

Cenred piled his plate high with meat. “Gwaine’s found a mate.”

Dracula raised a brow at Gwaine.

Arthur was surprised to see a blush bloom behind Gwaine’s closely-shaven beard. “It was a quick fuck, that’s all.”

Cenred snorted. “He’s smitten. Big grey wolf—twice the size of Gwaine here. Let Gwaine top him, too.”

“Shut up, Cenred,” Gwaine growled.

They snarled at one another until the Count put a stop to it.

“Enough, or I will make you take your meals in the kennels from now on.” He leaned back. “I didn’t know there were other werewolves in the vicinity.”

“An entire pack,” Cenred said, taking a seat at the table with his plate. “Three dozen, maybe.”

A crash turned everyone’s attention to the stairs, and Gwendolyn came running down them, dress askew.

“Let me out of here!” she screamed, heading for the door. A trickle of blood ran down her neck and her bodice still hung open, revealing her round breasts.

“Gwenny, Gwenny, come back here,” Morgana called in a sing-song fashion from the stairway. “Cenred, bring her to me.”

“My pleasure,” Cenred got up from the table and lunged for Gwendolyn, grabbing her arms and pinning them behind her, forcing her bared breasts outward. Morgana came forward and licked at Gwendolyn’s nipples before lunging for her neck and biting her there. Gwendolyn swooned, and Cenred laid her out on the floor and came back to the table.

“Morgana, if you can’t control your victims, you will have to stay in your portion of the house.” The Count’s tone was calm, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Eat, Arthur,” he ordered, and Arthur turned away from the scene on the floor and took a bite of beans.

“A mea,” Arthur said presently, trying to ignore the increasingly pleasured groans coming from Gwendolyn. “I thought I would take care of some business later. There’s my townhouse and Gwendolyn’s to be seen to.” He glanced at Dracula. “That is, if you want me to move in here with you.”

“Nothing would give me more pleasure.” The Count’s hand covered Arthur’s on the table.

“I will be going out, then, at first light.”

Leander snorted. “You certainly give this mate of yours free rein.”

“What would you know about mates?” Dracula snapped. “What you have is a trained pet.”

“We have fourteen children!” Will spoke up, obviously insulted. Leander scooted his chair back and took Will by the hair, jerking him out of his seat.

“Pants down.”

Will whimpered, but obeyed. Leander laid him out over his lap, rubbing one hand over the round globes of Will’s arse before slapping them hard. Will cried out, jerking in Leander’s lap.

“Do you know why I am punishing you, my pet?” Leander asked, slapping Will’s arse again, harder this time.

Will screamed and wiggled. “B-because I spoke disrespectfully to your cousin, the Count.”

“That is right.” Another, hard slap. Arthur winced, knowing it must hurt dreadfully. At the same time, his cock stirred in his pants.

“How might you rectify this?” Leander slapped again.

“An apology, m’lord and master.”

Slap. Slap. Slap. Will’s arse was redder than the tomatoes on Arthur’s plate.

“Yes. Do it.”

Will’s turned his face toward the Count, who looked impassively on.

“I’m sorry I spoke disrespectfully to you, Count Dracula. It will never happen again.”

“If it does, I will let the Count take his cane to your balls,” Leander said, letting Will up. Arthur saw tear tracks on Will’s face and turned away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Morgana and her sisters leading a docile Gwen down the hall toward the breezeway.

“Take your trousers the rest of the way off and stand beside me until I finish my meal,” Leander ordered. Will did so, and Arthur saw that Will’s erection tented his shirt. As Will sniffled, Leander reached up and rubbed a finger down his pet’s leg. “After my meal, I will drain you almost to the point of death.”

This seemed to perk Will up considerably, although Arthur couldn’t help a shudder at the thought.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, my Angel," the Count said. "I’ve never done that to you, although I’ve come close a few times. Once I taste of you, it is difficult to stop.”

Arthur swallowed. He didn’t want to think about losing that much blood, even if it was to the Count’s voracious appetite.

“Does Will have fangs?” Arthur asked, both curious to know and desperate to change the subject, particularly since the Count eyed Arthur hungrily.

As though in reply, Will smiled at him, his fangs popping down over his bottom lip.

“Will I ever have them?” Arthur asked, staring.

“Not much is known about blood-mates, but I think if you were to have them, they would have made an appearance by now.”

The Count stood. “Come, Arthur, let us walk on the grounds.” He held out his hand, and Arthur took it, rising from the table.


End file.
